


No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

by CC_Writes_Stuff



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Ashen Wolves Students, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Cindered Shadows DLC Spoilers, Mild Blood, Mild Language, POV Alternating, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Racism, Xenophobia, minor hurt/comfort, no beta we die like Glenn, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22947712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CC_Writes_Stuff/pseuds/CC_Writes_Stuff
Summary: When Byleth calls a strategy meeting for the students of the Golden Deer house to prepare for the upcoming mock battle, she can't find Claude. So she goes looking for him, only to find him in more trouble.Only, this time, it's not his fault. And the reason he's in it isn't pretty, either.*Mentions of racism/xenophobia*
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 10
Kudos: 155





	No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

**Author's Note:**

> With Cindered shadows and Abyss coming out, I wanted to do a little something with it - there are so many possibilites for what could happen? And then (I think it's Balthus) mentions hows there's Almyrans living in Abyss, and I had the sudden idea of 
> 
> 'Claude tries to be a hero and help the Almyrans in Abyss from xenophobes/racists because he knows what it's like to have that happen to him but then it goes sideways and he's injured and now Byleth has to come to bail his ass out but it's kinda tender but awkward for Claude at the same time because he is not up front about his heritage for Reasons' so yeah.
> 
> Like I've said before, mentions of racism/xenophobia

**⭒✭⭒✭⭒**

**Byleth**

The monastery was as busy as ever as everyone prepared for the Battle of the Eagle and the Lion, and the Golden Deer house was just as noisy.

Byleth watched as the Deer gathered in the classroom, ready to talk strategy and plan for the upcoming battle. Hilda was whining about having to do work, Leonie, Balthus, and Raphael were swapping battle strategies, Lysithea was arguing with Lorenz about who should do what, and Marianne and Ignatz were chatting quietly in the corner of the room. Hapi was sitting off by herself on one of the desks, swinging her legs. Out of all the Deer, only three people were missing - Claude, Yuri, and Constance.

The two wolves, she didn’t mind. Most of them only came when they chose too, so it would make sense that they wouldn’t show up for the meeting, although it miffed Byleth a little bit. But Claude was a different story. Knowing the enigmatic leader of the Golden Deer house, Byleth assumed he was just running late. But he was never one to miss up the opportunity to talk strategy and schemes, and he was supposed to meet them fifteen minutes ago. So, it was rather odd to see him missing from the strategy meeting.

“Hilda, have you seen Claude?” Byleth asked the pinkette, cutting off her latest ploy as to why she shouldn’t participate. Hilda frowned, shook her head.

“No. We were supposed to meet at the dining hall for food earlier, but he never showed,” she replied, sighing and twirling one of her pigtails around her ear. “I even bothered to save him a seat! How rude, honestly.”

Byleth frowned, looking around the room and repeating the same question to the rest of the Deer. None of them had any clue, Lorenz and Lysithea only piping in to say how unbecoming it was.

“So no one has any clue as to where he is?” Byleth asked, and the class shook their heads. Byleth sighed, rubbing her head.

“Well, we can’t have much of a strategy meeting without all the members present, especially the house leader” she grumbled, shaking her head. “I’m going to go look for him. For now, you can either talk strategy or take some time to yourselves, and we’ll meet up back here in an hour. If he doesn’t show, we’ll just have to do this without him.”

The class grumbled and cursed Claude, most of them walking out, and only Leonie and Lysithea stayed to get a head start on strategy. Only Hilda seemed pleased by this, saying something about tea time with Dorthea. At least someone seemed happy about that, which was more than Byleth could say. She had a headache, and no doubt Claude was getting into more trouble. She would have to drag his ass back here now.

The first place Byleth decided to check was the library. He could often be found on the floor in front of the bookshelves, a book in his lap and drool coming out of his mouth as he slept. But he wasn’t there, however, and Thomas had no clue as to where he was.

 _One place down, a whole lot more places to check,_ Sothis quipped from inside Byleth’s head. _And that was just in the monastery itself, not to mention the town. You might have to check with the gatekeeper to see if he has left._

As Byleth headed back to the stairs, she nearly collided with her father coming out of his office. She stumbled, but Jeralt put a hand on her shoulder to steady herself.

“Woah, sorry kid, I didn’t see you there,” he said as Byleth regained her balance, and she looked up to look at her father. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she replied with a nod. Jeralt raised a brow.

“I thought you were supposed to be talking strategy for the upcoming battle with the brats,” Jeralt mentioned. Byleth sighed, shook her head.

“We were, but Claude never showed up,” she told him with a bit of annoyance. “I’m looking for him right now. Have you seen him?”

Jeralt let out a huff and put one hand on his head. “Damn noble brats,” he muttered under his breath, quiet enough so only Byleth could hear it. Then he shook his head. “No, I haven’t. I’ve been cooped up in my office most of the damn day.”

Byleth nodded, trying to not let her annoyance show. She was _not_ in the mood to run all over the monastery looking for him. “Alright. Well, if you see him, tell him to get his ass over to the classroom or I’ll stick him with stable duty for a week.”

A gruff laugh escaped her father’s lips. “Man, nobles will do anything to avoid cleaning up horseshit eh?” he said. “Has it worked before?”

“For the most part, yes.”

Jeralt grunted, ruffling her hair. “If I see the von Reigan rascal, I’ll tell him you said that. Good luck finding him, kid.”

“Thank you, father. I’ll see you at dinner tonight?”

“If Rhea lets me out in time, yeah.”

Byleth nodded, skirting past him and going down the stairs to the first floor. Where else would Claude be at this time of day?

 _His room, maybe, or the greenhouse, or perhaps the training grounds,_ Sothis said, a huff of indignation in her voice.

She decided to start with the training grounds, just nearest to her. Perhaps he’d be working on his latest combat art or sparring with Dimitri and had forgotten what time it was. Claude wasn’t exactly the best at remembering times. However, to Byleth’s dismay, she didn’t see the brunette in there, just Felix, Ingrid, Sylvain and Dimitri circling one another like dogs. She watched silently as Felix charged towards Dimitri, swinging his sword, only for Ingrid to step in and block, pushing the swordsman back.

It was always entertaining to watch the four fight, even if Felix spat out curses and insults at his friends, mostly Dimitri. But Byleth didn’t have time to watch them right now, not when she needed to find Claude. So she bowed out, heading to the dorm rooms to see if Claude was in his room. As she passed the alcove between the Sauna and her room, she saw Yuri coming out of the hole that led to Abyss. He squinted in the light, and Byleth stopped for a few seconds to say hi to the unofficial leader of the unofficial Ashen Wolves house.

Upon seeing her, Yuri shot Byleth a smile, walking up to her.

“Professor,” Yuri said with a nod in her direction.

“Yuri,” Byleth replied, glancing at the entryway to Abyss, before looking back to him. “It’s not that often I see you on the surface.”

“Well, our strategy meeting for the coming battle was supposed to be today, yes, friend?” He asked, raising a brow. “I believe Hapi and Balthus are already there.”

“Yes, but I can’t find Claude, so I’m postponing it,” Byleth replied with a nod. “I can’t hold a strategy meeting without the house leader there, after all.”

Yuri nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I know von Reigan was reading in the shadow library about an hour ago,” he told her, and Byleth perked up. “We were swapping… err, it doesn’t matter what we were talking about, but we were supposed to go to the meeting together. I went to go get a drink from the tavern about ten, fifteen minutes ago, but when I came back, he had left.”

 _No doubt they were swapping schemes and plans, knowing those two schemers,_ Sothis mused. Byleth couldn’t help but agree, but she ignored the gremlin.

“So you don’t know where he is?” Byleth asked, and Yuri shook his head.

“Nope. All I know is that he’s still down there somewhere - Abysskeeper never saw him leave.”

Sothis clicked her tongue. _Well, that was going to be a problem. Abyss has tons of tunnels that stretched below Garreg Mach, and even more places to hide. It will be hard to find Claude down there if he went in deep enough or far enough down._

Still, Byleth nodded. “Thank you, Yuri,” she replied. “As I said, I’ve postponed the meeting, for now, so you can go do whatever it is you usually do when I’m not around. We’re meeting back in the Golden Deer house in about… forty-five minutes, as of now.”

“Of course,” Yuri said, nodding. “If you’re that desperate to find Claude, ask Constance. Perhaps she knows where von Reigan is at.”

“I might just do that,” Byleth replied, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Ugh, my head hurts too much for this.”

With that, she slipped through the passageway, hoping Claude hadn’t gone deep enough into the tunnels where it would be near-impossible to find him, though perhaps the darkness and chilly dampness of Abyss would help soothe her headache as well. The tunnel leading to the main part of Abyss was easy to follow, and the Abysskeeper greeted her as she entered. Byleth waved at him, before stepping inside the Shadow Library.

Claude had definitely been there. In the corner of the room was his tell-tale scatter of books on the floor, spread out in a circle. But no Claude. Perhaps she would have better luck with the residents, or even Constance. Stepping back out into the hall, Byleth quickly checked the tavern to make sure Claude wasn’t there, before heading down the steps to the one road that she could never remember the name of. It was rather empty today, aside from the dogs and cats that lingered about.

It was only when Byleth reached the Ashen Wolves classroom did she find Constance, surrounded by a group of children. They were all talking amongst themselves as Constance tried to talk over them.

 _Something is wrong,_ Sothis said, voice now alert and hushed. _Look, they all seem scared, and Constance looks worried._

“Constance!” Byleth said, and the former noble’s head snapped up to look at Byleth as she walked over. “Hey, is everything okay?”

Byleth didn’t miss how, when most of the children looked at her, seemed to flinch and step back so they were behind Constance. Only three didn’t seem to react, two taller children and one smaller boy. She also didn’t miss how many of the children were talking in Almyran to one another.

“Oh, Professor, thank the gods you came!” Constance said, worrying her eyebrows as one of the children grabbed onto her leg. “Something is wrong.”

“What’s going on?” Byleth asked, and Constance looked over the children, before looking back up to her.

“The von Reigan kid, Claude, if I’m correct - he appears to be in trouble.”

 _Why am I not surprised?_ Byleth thought at the same time Sothis said that. Still, a chill ran down her spine. This appeared to be the bad sort of trouble, from the looks of it.

“I-I don’t know for sure, though” Constance continued, shaking her head. “The kids, they came to me and keep telling me something’s wrong, but they’re all talking over one another and I don’t understand half of what they’re saying, only that it has something to do with one of the Knights.”

“Please, allow me,” one of the older kids, a scruffy-looking boy with bright orange eyes said, stepping forward. “You see, I’m Almyran, as are the many of the other kids here. We were just minding our own business when a group of Knights barged into our living quarters, claiming that one of the kids stole some sort of fancy sword from Faerghus.”

The other tall kid, a girl with sunburnt red hair, nodded in agreement. “Uh-huh. They were… they were yelling and screaming at us, and scaring the kids…” she paused and gestured to the kid next to her, who gave a meek wave. “Ismael here went to go find one of the Wolves to come help, but he found Claude instead. He told von Reigan of the situation, and he agreed to help, and followed him back to where the Knights were.”

“Words were exchanged,” the tall kid continued. “And… and the Knights started threating him and the rest of us. Before long, a fight broke out. Many of us got out, but… but Claude and a few others are still back there, fighting against ten or so Knights.”

 _Oh, my, that is trouble,_ Sothis mused.

 _Now is not the time for that, Sothis,_ Byleth snapped back, a pit opening up in her stomach, and she nodded.

“Do you know where he is?” Byleth asked, trying to keep the fury out of her voice. She would not allow anyone, knights or otherwise, to raise a fist against Claude, or any of her students, for that matter.

The three kids nodded, and Byleth turned to Constance.

“Here, come with me, Constance,” Byleth ordered with a sharp nod. “I may need some help.”

Constance stood up straighter and nodded. “Of course,” she said. “As sworn protector of Abyss, I will not allow any harm to befall the Abyssinians here, no matter what!”

 _Well, she may be noble all the way through, but she at least has a sense of virtue and valor,_ Byleth thought, looking back to the two kids.

“Can you lead us there?” She asked them. They exchanged a glance with one another before the girl nodded.

“Follow me,” She said, taking off out of the room. The boy, Constance, and Byleth followed, resting one hand on the Sword of the Creator. Her mercenary instincts told her that something was wrong, for sure.

The girl was fast, leaping over broken crates and stacks of wood easily, but Byleth had been fighting long enough to match her pace. Constance seemed to be having a little bit of trouble, especially without her pegasus to help her. Still, she was somehow keeping pace with the rest of them, probably knowing the tunnels better than Byleth did. A few hallways down, Byleth nearly ran into three more kids as she rounded a corner, but recovered from falling at the last second. She had to assume they were Almryan, but she could tell they were scared out of their minds, tears in the corner of their eyes, and the biggest one had bruises on his face and a cut on his arm.

 _Gods, did the knights really do this to these poor kids?_ Byleth asked herself as the girl and boy slowed to a stop to comfort the three kids. She knew relations between Almyra and Fodlan weren’t the best, they never had been, but to think of the Knights doing this to a group of kids…

Her stomach turned as the boy comforted the three kids, and she balled her hands into fists so tight her knuckles were white. Constance was obviously pissed as hell, too, eyes narrowed and speaking of murder.

 _You must hurry,_ Sothis piped up from the back of Byleth’s mind. _There may be others back there, including Claude. Make haste, and go!_

“Let’s keep going,” Byleth said, head snapping towards the girl. She seemed to hesitate at leaving the kids, but a few words in Almyran from the older boy seemed to soothe her mind. She nodded, turned, and kept running.

“Those scoundrels,” Constance hissed as she ran next to Byleth. “I don’t care that those kids were Almyran - how dare those knights lay their hands on them like that!”

“If I don’t kill them, my dad will,” Byleth replied, drawing her sword. In the distance, she could hear shouting in both Fodlanese and Almyran.

A few more minutes of running brought them to a large space, bigger than the arena where she first fought with the Wolves. It was clear people were living there, based on the piles of clothing and food and various objects and toys scattered about. In front of her, she could see a group of Knights in silver armor, with what looked to be like Claude in the middle of them, based on the black pants she saw in-between the Knights’ legs. Byleth couldn’t see his face facing away from her, but he was shouting at them in a mixture of Fodlanese and Almyran. Then, grunting, and more pained cursing in Almyran.

“Shut up, you damn half-breed bastard!” One of the knights roared. Byleth narrowed her eyes, a spark of anger flaring up in her chest. _How dare he talk to her students like that._

In one move, she activated the whip function of her sword and lifted up, before slamming it down on the ground. It hit the ground with a resounding crack! as it glowed ruby red and split the stone, creating more cracks in it. The Knights startled, jumping away from it, before turning around to face her, some of them scrambling for their weapons. The Sword retracted, the joints of clattering like teeth as it did so, still glowing ruby red and pulsing, the hilt warm like blood. Constance said something to her as the Knights replied in kind, but she could only focus on Claude.

God, did he look _terrible_. His outer coat had torn off, and there rips and holes in the yellow undershirt he wore, most of them stained with what Byleth assumed to be blood, or otherwise bruised. His arms were yanked behind him in a way that had to be painful by two of the Knights, and his breathing was staggered, like one of his ribs was broken. His mouth and the right side of his face was bloody, one eye blackening. His head was lolled to the side, but Byleth could feel his gaze boring into her, his good eye half-lidded.

 _Focus, Byleth!_ _Before you can help him, you have to drive away these scoundrels!_ Sothis screeched at her. _Do not let them continue to treat von Reigan like that!  
_  
She turned to address the Knights, fury rising up in her chest, white-hot and scorching. _No one_ hurt any of her Deer, and she would make them pay.

“I’ll give you ten seconds to let him go and run for the hills,” Byleth hissed at the Knights-that-didn’t-deserve-to-be-Knights, taking a step forward. Then she narrowed her eyes, making a motion with her sword. “Or, better yet, stay, so I can kick your sorry asses.”

One of them - brave or stupid, Byleth couldn’t tell - took a step forward, eyes darkening with hatred and fury. In his hand with a knife, silver blade clashing against dark red blood. Was that Claude’s blood, or the kid from before? Or both?

“And let these Almyran vermin continue to live in the same area as Her Grace?” The knight asked Byleth, scoffing. “I think not. It’s only going to be a matter of time before he or one of those filthy rats attempts to kill her.”

A second knight, smaller than the first, stepped forward as well. “Yeah!” she said, venom dripping in her words. “Letting them live here can only spell trouble for us. Better to let us nip this problem in the bud, Professor, and kill these heretics here and now.”

“You are not speaking to Professor Byleth Eisner,” she replied, venom lacing her tongue as she took another step forward. “You are speaking to the Ashen Demon, and if you so much as lay another finger on him, I’ll skewer you, Knight, or not. Now let. Him. Go.”

“And what are you going to do?” The first knight crowed, and the rest of them joined in, barking crap about how it was ‘justified’ and how Claude and the other Almyrans were ‘a disaster waiting to happen’, and other similar insults.

Bullshit, all of it.

Byleth had heard people, students and knights and mercenaries and faculty alike, say stuff like that to Cyril, to some of the Almyran company she kept at times in the troupe, but… she hadn’t heard such pure, unadulterated _hatred_ in a long time. And with each ‘reason’ given, Claude seemed to flinch, just slightly. If Byleth wasn’t focused on him, she would’ve missed it, how his good eye twitched and lips turned back briefly into a snarl. She could feel Claude’s eyes boring into her, too, and she wondered what he was thinking. His gaze was cold, inscrutable, guarded. Now Byleth knew where it came from, but she could only guess as to what he was thinking. _Was she with him, or against him?_

“I don’t think they’re going to listen,” Constance said, a magic circle appearing in front of her hands. “We may have to use force.”

 _Use all the force you want, Byleth, but do not kill them,_ Sothis said. _Even if they have done such horrendous acts to von Reigan and the other Almyrans here, killing them is only liable to get you in trouble._

Byleth didn’t need anything more than that as she drew the dagger at her waist from its sheath.

A flick of her wrist. The dagger flew from her fingers, blade gleaming in the low light. It embedded itself in the exposed shoulder of one of the knights holding Claude, and she let out a pained cry, stumbling back and her other hand flying to her shoulder.

Constance took action, too, casting Fireball on the knights left of them. One, two, three flew from her hands, and they crashed into three of the knights there. Not powerful enough to kill, but strong enough to leave a nasty scar, and send them flying backward. Two of them crashed into the wall behind them, and they slumped to the ground, unconscious.

The rest of the so-called knights snapped into action at that. The two in the front charged towards Byleth, shouting at her. Remembering Sothis’ words to use force, but not kill, Byleth parried the attack of the first one.

Steel clashed on ivory - or whatever the hell her sword was made of - and Byleth jumped back. One of them had an ax, the other a sword. Good; she didn’t need to deal with lances today.

The first knight let out a battle cry as he rose his ax, clearly underestimating her, despite the sword she had. And the Sword of the Creator, alive and grim and hot to the touch, pulsed in Byleth’s hand as she lashed out.

It flared red at her attempt to drive the ax back or out of her attacker’s hand, but instead of just blocking the ax, it sliced it clean off its pole. The tip of the sword narrowly missed the knight’s head, but the blade itself didn’t, falling downwards onto his foot.

He let out a cry, but the second knight struck out at Byleth before she could subdue him, his sword narrowly avoiding taking out her eye. Instead, it burned a line into her skull, wet and hot, just above her ear.

Gritting her teeth, Byleth took stock of the knight - armor covering his stomach and chest - meaning no punches on him. So, instead, she took aim at the first knight, still clutching his injured foot, and delivered a wicked left-cross into his face, right into his temple.

Pain flared in Byleth’s hand, since she wasn’t wearing anything to protect her knuckles while she punched. It was still enough, though, to whip the knight’s head to the side and drop him to the ground. She still had it, apparently, to drop a man with a single punch.

With one knight down, she could focus her attention on the second, raising her sword to parry his incoming attack. Just in time, too - if she’d been a second slower, his sword would’ve scored a dangerous wound in her ribs.

“Stand down,” Byleth said to him, red flashing across her sword before dimming down to sunrise orange.

“Why are you protecting him?” The knight asked, hatred flashing in dark-brown eyes as he raised his sword. “Those Almyrans are nothing more than a stain in our beloved monastery, heathens who don’t believe in the Goddess!”

“Doesn’t mean every Almyran is planning on killing the Archbishop,” Byleth retorted with a snarl, shaking her head. “Do not forget that my father is the Captain of the Knights of Serios, and could easily strip you of your rank and kick you to the curb. If he doesn’t beat you to a pulp first.”

“He wouldn’t do that - he’d be happy we take care of these threats before-”

Byleth couldn’t stand hearing more of that bullshit any longer. Maybe Rhea wouldn’t forgive her taking a finger, but she _was_ known as the _Ashen Demon_ long before she was known as _Byleth the Professor._ So while he was distracted, she struck out at him.

A quick jab of her sword was enough to get Byleth closer to him, close enough to sweep the knight’s legs out from under him, and she definitely drew some blood. He let out a startled cry as he fell, armor clanking as he hit the ground. Another well-deserved and delivered punch was enough to knock him out.

Once he was out, Byleth scanned the rest of the scene. Now there were six knights down, the four from before and two more that Constance had trapped inside a fimbulvetr attack. The former noble was currently fighting against another knight, a Levin sword that Byleth had given her crackling in her hands.

Two of the knights were gone, and Claude had staggered to his feet, back pressed against the wall as the last knight faced him. In his hand was a dagger, short and simple, but his left arm was gnarled, broken. In terms of strength, the knight had the advantage.

So, before the other knight could have a chance to do anything, Byleth summoned her magic, sending a fireball at the final knight. It knocked him forward, a cry escaping his lips. It gave Claude enough time to drop the knife, spin, press his good hand to the back of the knight’s head, and slam him into the wall.

There was a cracking and clanging sound as the knight made contact with the wall and then collapsed onto the ground, before letting out a groan. He fell, but Byleth could hear him mutter something under his breath.

She was too far away to tell what, but whatever it was, it wasn’t nice, and was directed at Claude. He flinched, just slightly, before he muttered something else, also too quiet for Byleth to hear. Then he took a step back and sunk to the floor, coughing.

Worry spiked in Byleth’s chest, but she had to make sure Constance was doing okay before she could help Claude - no sense in two of her students getting hurt. But she was already sheathing her sword as the knight she had been facing lay on the ground, spazzing.

All threats neutralized, Byleth let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding and sheathed her sword, before calling out to Constance. “I need you to get Manuela and my father,” she told her, eyes flicking towards Claude. “He needs a healer, and I need someone to handle these so-called Knights.”

Constance stiffened for a moment, before nodding, and she glanced at the girl, who had been hiding in the shadow of the tunnel during their spat with the knights. The two of them ran off, leaving Byleth alone with Claude. Injured and beaten-up Claude, but alive.

**⭒✭⭒✭⭒**  
**Claude**

Claude had known it had been risky to take on the guards alone. But after seeing at least half of the Almyran kids there scared shitless, the same fear he had seen in his younger sister’s eyes countless times before from his half-and-step brothers, he knew he had to get them out before more trouble was caused. He had expected words to be thrown his way, for a fight to come, and he got both of those things. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, either. But even Claude, as skilled as he was, couldn’t take down ten knights all by himself.

Which was how he had gotten thrown onto the ground, nose, and one arm definitely broken (as well as probably a few ribs) and was being beaten half to death. The knights - if they could even be called that - were hurling all sorts of insults at him, many of which he had heard before but some of which, quite frankly, just confused him. Must be some sort of Fodalander thing.

What he hadn’t expected was Teach appearing out of thin air, Constance on her heels.

Of course, Claude hadn’t known that until there was an ear-splitting _crack!_ that scared the living shit out of him. He looked to the side and out of his good eye to see her sword cracking the ground and glowing with its blood-red power. The knights in front him parted, revealing a _very_ pissed-off looking Teach, glaring daggers as her sword retracted. Constance was next to him, but while she was focused on the knights, Claude could feel Teach’s gaze boring into him. No doubt he looked terrible, a sorry excuse for a noble, for a prince.

More words were exchanged with the knights, and each insult at him or the kids here or Almyrans, in general, seemed to piss Teach off more. He doesn’t think he had ever seen her that angry, although it was still incredibly difficult to tell. But Claude could point it out - a twitch of her hand as it rested on her sword, how her breathing slowly seemed to get steadier and steadier to the point where it was just creepy, - it didn’t even look like she was breathing - the narrowing her eyes and she even bared her teeth, just for a moment, at a particularly barbed insult, an insult that stung him more than he would admit.

When Constance whispered something in Byleth’s ear, she finally seemed to have enough of what they said.

Smooth as silk and too quick for Claude to really catch, Byleth drew out the dagger at her waist, launching it at the knight to his right, pinning one of his arms behind him. She let out a scream and let his arm go, and all hell broke loose, then. Later, when he was asked, Claude admitted that he didn’t quite remember getting to his feet to take on the other knight that had broken his damn arm. Only that one moment he was on the ground, and next, he was on his feet - just barely - knife in hand.

Well, he left out the knife part, but that was a little detail he could skip over, and one that Byleth graciously hadn’t brought up. It was mostly used for situations like that, when he didn’t have any other weapon but still needed to get out of a scrap. Or, in a rare occasion, ropes.

Claude _did_ know that it was unwise to take the knight on, he knew that very well. He was unsteady on his feet, not used to close combat as much as he’d like to be, with a broken arm, nose, some bruised ribs, a black eye, and only a dagger as a weapon. The knight, meanwhile, was covered in armor, with silver gauntlets that looked ready to kill, perfectly healthy with no injuries, and full of piss and hatred at him. Not exactly the best combination in terms of fighting. If his arm wasn’t broken, he might stand a chance, but he needed to get out, and both Constance and Teach were occupied.

All he had to do, though, was hold him off until one of them could help him. Luckily for him, he only had to face the one. Six of the knights were unconscious or otherwise incapacitated, two of them had ran, and the others were facing Byleth and Constance.

Somehow, by the luck of the gods of fortune once more, he had held out alright. When the knight he was facing was thrust forward by some sort of attack, Claude took his chance. He dropped the knife and stepped to the side, before turning and grabbing the back of his neck. Ignoring the jab of pain in his bad arm, Claude rammed the guy’s head into the wall.

A sickening crack echoed throughout the chamber as the knight hit the wall, but Claude didn’t mind as much as he should’ve. He’d done far worse to far better, and besides, he deserved it after all he said to him, including the last insult thrown his way before he collapsed. Once he did that, though, every last bit of energy Claude had in him seemed to fade, and he collapsed rather ungracefully to the floor, groaning. Byleth said something just a few seconds later to Constance, then she was running over to him.

“Claude, are you alright?” She asked, dropping to her knees next to him, and her eyes flicked over him, probably checking for any more injuries he may have sustained. Aside from the shallow cut in his ribs and bruise that had to be forming there, as well as the nausea forming in his gut, he felt… well, he felt better than horrible, for sure.

“What are… what are you doing here, Teach?” He asked her, letting out a shaky breath, his good eye flicking upwards at her. He was, quite frankly, unsure how to feel about that. On the one hand, he was thankful she had come to save his sorry ass. On the other hand, he wasn’t sure how he felt about his secret, the secret he needed to keep, being… outed, just like that. There was a reason he kept that secret.

“I couldn’t find you for the strategy meeting,” Byleth replied, gently gripping one shoulder and pressing her other hand to the wound on his ribs. He winced at the touch, feather-light as it was. “Good thing I went looking for you.”

Claude didn’t say anything, just winced as Byleth’s healing magic started to stitch his skin together. Her touch was light, but he still never got used to the burning, itching sensation that came with white magic.

“I… ngh, I had it handled, Teach,” he protested after a few seconds, giving a dismissive wave of his good hand. As much as he appreciated her there, the fact that she heard all the stuff those so-called knights said at him… it left a bad feeling in his gut. The last thing he wanted was people finding out he was Almyran. Especially like that; if he were to tell someone, he would want to do it on his own terms.

“Tell that to your face,” she replied bitterly as the wound closed up, and she moved onto the gash at his head, burning and aching. Then, in a softer voice, “What happened?”

“Does it matter?” He asked in a voice laced with bitterness and poison, poison Claude didn’t mean to let seep into his voice but it did anyways. He glanced away from her, stomach churning and his head pounding. No one usually cared before, and even Teach might not care. Just because she saved him didn’t necessarily mean she was on his side. He had learned that the hard way, once. Being her student was different than being Almyran.

“I just want to help,” she told him, and he winced as his head started to itch. One of the so-called knights shouted something at Claude, and Byleth turned her gaze, biting out her next words as he bristled beneath her touch. “Shut up, or I will stab you.”

“Why are you helping that Almyran half-breed mutt?” he hissed at her. Claude stiffened, going still and rigid as a statue. Of _course_ , she had to be there, caught in this crossfire of insults and foul language and part of who he was.

“I said shut up,” Byleth hissed, her grip on his shoulder tightening. Claude’s eyes flickered up to her, then to the knight. Oh, how he hated this.

He was used to being called all sorts of names by now, by both Fodlanders and Almyrans, but it was different in front of Byleth. Claude’s most-kept secret, the secret he needed to be kept for his own safety, coming to light right in front of the person he trusted the most. Claude hated that, too, more than he cared to admit. Maybe he could beg her to keep the secret, if he had too. Byleth didn’t seem like the person to judge others because of where they came from, but he never knew with people. After all, the person he once called his best friend tried to poison and stab him. On the same night.

Whatever was in Byleth’s gaze seemed to work, and the knight went silent as his gaze flicked to Claude, burning with venom and hatred. A snarl split the man’s lips, but he didn’t dare say anything else. Knowing Byleth, she would stab him. Still, Claude gulped, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Manuela’s on her way,” she said quietly, turning back to face him, continuing to heal the gash on his forehead. More itching. “Your arm’s broken, isn’t it?”

Claude tried to move his arm, and winced when a stab of pain ran through it, and he heard Byleth curse under her breath.

“Okay, yeah, that’s broken,” she muttered. “Alright, don’t move that until Manuela gets here. Once my dad gets those scoundrels rounded up, I can get you to the infirmary.”

“I can get there myself,” Claude grunted, trying to stand, but a wave of nausea washed over him, and he fell back onto the floor. Byleth made a tsking sound, shaking her head.

“You shouldn’t move too much,” she told him. “You’re pretty banged up.”

“It’s not that bad,” he replied, shaking his head and holding up his good hand, cracking a crooked smile at her despite himself. “I’m fine, Teach, really.”

“You’re _not_ fine,” Byleth snapped, her voice taking on a sharp tone that Claude hadn’t heard from her since… since the whole deal with the Ashen Wolves and her mother. It was a sharp, dangerous tone, a tone fit of the Ashen Demon, not the silent and helpful Professor Byleth. “What happened?”

Claude gulped, keeping his gaze averted from her. “It’s nothing,” he repeated, firmer this time, hoping she would drop it. He couldn’t deal with going into his blood and why he was down there and what the hell caused him to get so beat up, not right now.

She sighed, but didn’t press him, thank the gods. “Are there any other injuries?” Byleth asked him, her fingers brushing over his cheek, unflinching at the blood that had to be covering it. His cheeks flushed at the touch, light as it was, and a part of Claude was suddenly grateful for the blood; Byleth wouldn’t be able to see it through all that red.

“No, not that I know of,” Claude told her. “Though I think they broke my nose. And… maybe a couple of my ribs. Definitely a bruise, at least.”

“Looks that way,” she muttered. Her brow creased, pressing another light finger to his arm, trying to not disturb it. “I’d try to set it, but I don’t know enough about that to try it, or else I might risk making it worse.”

“It’s fine, Teach,” Claude said, waving a dismissive hand. He didn’t need anyone fretting over his injuries. “I can wait until Manuela gets here. I’ve been through worse.” A lot worse, he added silently. He didn’t miss the quick downturn of her lips, the quick flash of worry in her ocean-blue eyes.

That said, his head was pounding, the gash he got itching and burning, despite being healed up, and his chest ached with every breath. Byleth’s magic had helped some, but it would still hurt for a while. His arm was no better, throbbing with pain, and it hurt every time he breathed. Claude considered himself lucky that the one knight hadn’t gotten to jamming the knife in anywhere or otherwise stabbing him.

The other was pissed he wasn’t fast enough to keep him from cutting the other kid.

“Just take it easy,” Byleth told him. “Don’t strain yourself.”

“Sorry I had to drag you out here,” he muttered, closing his good eye, stars appearing in his vision. He muttered under his breath, to himself. “I should’ve been able to take care of that myself.”

Byleth, never one to miss a beat, heard him, replying, “You were unarmed and outnumbered, Claude. Be glad I got here when I did, and not anytime later.” A sigh as she gestured to him. “It could’ve been a lot worse.”

Despite himself, he shot a smartass wink at her, though it was more like he was just closing his good eye. “Worried about your favorite fawn, Teach?”

For a few seconds, Byleth was silent, her gaze trained on the floor, and her hands were balled into fists. At this distance, Claude could see the slight downturn in her lips, the tenseness in her shoulders, the way she set her jaw.

“I was,” she said after a few seconds, quietly, like it was more an admission to herself than an answer to his question. Either way, it was enough to make Claude pause. Had Byleth ever been worried before? Before he could say anything, though, she continued to speak.

“Seeing you like that - like this - surrounded by all those knights with no weapon… I didn’t like it,” she continued, voice quiet as distilled water. “I know you were probably trying to do a good thing, but… don’t be reckless. That’s all I ask.”

Pursing his lips together, Claude let out a slow breath through his nose, gripping Byleth’s arm to keep himself steady. Thank the gods Byleth wasn’t peppering him with questions about what just happened. Even if it didn’t bug him, Claude was unwell enough to not bother replying.

But that admission of worry… he didn’t know why, but it made his heart hurt. He didn’t like hearing how Byleth worried about him like that. At the same time, though, it felt… good, in a selfish sort of way. As a kid, only his father and mother (and occasionally Nader) had worried about him when something happened, like the one time his cousins had broken his leg and left him in the forest surrounding the capital city of Almyra.

“Thanks, Teach,” he said after a few minutes of catching his breath. “For saving my sorry ass.”

“You can repay me by not pulling a stunt like that without backup at the very least again,” Byleth replied, sighing and shaking her head. “Manuela and my father should be here soon.”

“Hey, before they get here…” Claude started, before pausing, a lump forming in his throat. Did he really want to go down there right now? Doing so would open up a part of him he wasn’t sure he was ready to open up to other people, the part of him his parents told to keep hidden. 

“Claude?” Byleth asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. He shook his head and looked up at her. Her lips were turned downwards, eyebrows furrowed, nose scrunched up. “Is everything okay?”

_It was… cute, almost._

_Wait, where the hell did_ that _thought come from? Since when had he taken to noticing if people - his professor, no less - were cute?_

“S-sorry, I was thinking about something,” he replied, shaking that thought away. Then he swallowed the lump in his throat and glanced at the entrance Byleth came out of. Normally, as a prince of Almyra, he didn’t beg. But maybe he could allow himself to beg, just this once. Even if it meant he had to do some sort of odd job for Byleth later, but that would be great compared to what some of his family would ask of him.

“Hey, Teach… could you do me a favor?”

“Of course,” she replied. “What is it?”

Clenching his jaw, he looked to the knights, the ground, and back up to Byleth. “You… you probably heard what the soldier said, right? About… about me, and…”

“I did,” she interrupted, saving Claude from having to say it. He didn’t miss the dark, bitter tone in it, and a part of him wondered if that was directed at him or the knights who said it. Probably the latter. He hoped it was the latter.

“Can… can you not tell Manuela or… or any of the others about that?” he asked her, closing his eyes. If there was anyone he didn’t want judging him for being half-Almyran, Byleth was at the top of that list. “Please, Teach. I can’t… I can’t risk letting that get out. I mean… look at me. That… that… this... would get ten times worse if people found out that I… that I’m-”

“-That you’re from Almyra?” She finished, and Claude winced mentally. Of course she figured it out - nothing got past Byleth. He nodded.

“Yeah… how’d you know?”

“Skin’s a bit of a dead give away, to be honest,” She admitted, averting her gaze. “I… Sorry if that comes off as rude, but I haven’t met too many people with dark skin who were born in Fodlan. You like Almyran pine tea, and you’ve talked about wyvern riding being a sort of ‘rite of passage’ from where you come from. Plus, I’ve heard you cursing in Almyran before.”

Now _that_ piqued Claude’s interest. “You know Almyran?” He asked, looking up at her, unable to keep the hint of curiosity out of his voice. He was a little miffed at Byleth being able to pick out that fact from just the few stuff he mentioned - Claude tried very hard to keep anything that would connect him to Almyra secret - but he was impressed.

“Yeah. A few years back, our troop took a job in Almyra, and I made friends with one of the kids there.” A soft, fuzzy smile appeared on her face at the memory. “He taught me some Almyran, and our translator for the group taught me, oh, about fifty curse words.”

Despite himself and the throbbing pain in his head, Claude let out a chuckle. “Then you’re only about a thousand away from learning the rest,” he joked, before sucking in a breath, the air burning his lungs and making pain flutter in his chest. Damn knights broke his ribs. “But… seriously, can you not tell anyone? I can’t… I can’t have this getting out.”

“I won’t, Claude,” she replied, before glancing over her shoulder. “And I’ll make sure those so-called knights don’t do to anyone else what they did to you.” There was a dark, bitter note in her voice, a vein in her neck throbbing.

Claude allowed himself to exhale, closing his eyes. “Thank you, Teach. Seriously, this… this means more than you think.”

“It’s the least I can do,” she replied quietly. Maybe even a little bit bitterly, even. Still, there was a sort of softness there as well, something that was rare to hear from her.

He was going to reply, but then footsteps sounded in the distance. Claude looked up to see Captain Jeralt running in, Manuela, Constance and a group of knights on his heels. Byleth gave a wave to them, and Manuela rushed over to them.

“Claude, are you alright?” She asked him, and he nodded, wincing when his head throbbed.

“More or less,” he replied, eyes flicking in Byleth’s direction. “Thank Teach here - she saved my sorry ass.”

Whatever Manuela said next was drowned out by Captain Jeralt yelling as he chewed out his men, none of whom dared to make eye contact with him. Some of them glanced in Claude’s direction, but he just glared at them and smirked. _Have a taste of your own medicine_ , one part of him thought. The other was thankful that anger wasn’t directed at him. Captain Jeralt was a gruff, intimidating man, and more often than not, that gruff look was reserved for him and the other guys at Garreg Mach. Mostly Sylvain, but he had gotten the occasional side-eye. Especially so in the past few months, although he didn't know for the life of him why.

“Can you stand?” Manuela asked, and Claude looked down at his legs, wiggled his toes. They seemed alright, unlike his arm.

“I think, yeah,” He replied. Byleth and Manuela took his good arm and helped Claude get to his feet, wincing when he jostled his bad arm and a bolt of pain went through it. The former songstress muttered under his breath, furrowing her brows at his arm, gently prodding it. Another spike of pain went through it, and he hissed, instinctively pulling it closer to his chest.

“Sorry, sorry,” Manuela said, holding up her hand. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just assessing the damage.”

“Well? What’s the word, doc?” He asked, unable to resist shooting Manuela a wink and a grin, pained and fake as it was.

Claude could’ve sworn he saw Byleth roll her eyes out of the corner of his own eyes, but didn’t say anything.

“It looks to be a clean break, but you’ll have to take it easy,” Manuela said, shaking her head at his joke. “If you don’t strain it, it should be pretty much healed by the time the Battle of the Eagle and Lion rolls around.”

“So don’t strain it,” Byleth said, a warning note in her voice. “I need my house leader if I want to win the battle.”

Ignoring the pounding in his head, he shot Byleth a wink. “Makes sense. I have been the one carrying the Deer on my back all year long, after all.”

“On second thought, I may just bench you.”

“Well, it’s apparent your wounds haven’t dulled your sense of humor, von Reigan,” Jeralt piped up, walking over to them as he shook his head. There was a hint of annoyance in his voice, though whether from him or the knights, he couldn’t tell. Probably both.

“Dad,” Byleth said in a tone that sounded slightly exasperated, crossing her arms over her chest. Captain Jeralt held out a hand.

“Lighten up, kiddo, your fawn certainly is,” he replied, before hard amber eyes flickered his way. Claude tensed - there was something about that gaze that was so scrutinizing and stern that always made him feel on edge. It reminded him a bit of his mother’s gaze, actually, though she had a certain mischievous glint to hers.

“But seriously, please accept my apologies for my knights' behavior,” the captain said, shaking his head and casting a glare at the remaining knights, now being rounded up by the ones he’d brought with him. All of them shrunk under that withering gaze. “I don’t know what in the goddess name they were thinking, attacking you and a bunch of other kids like that. I’ll deal with them myself, and I’ll make sure to find the two knights that escaped as well.”

“Thank you,” Claude replied, before shaking his head. “But it wasn’t your fault. No need to take responsibility, though I wouldn’t complain if you roughed them up a little.”

“Yes, those scoundrels should get what they deserve,” Constance piped up from where she walked over to the rest of them. Ah, Claude would have to talk to her later about what she heard. “It was atrocious, attacking kids like that on a baseless claim!”

“Well, if Lady Rhea won’t deal with them, me and the kiddo will,” Captain Jeralt assured, ruffling his daughter’s hair. A rare smile flickered on her face, before Jeralt’s gaze flitted from Constance to Byleth to Claude. “Go get yourself healed up, boy. My daughter wants to win the upcoming battle, and it would do no good if the house leader and most skilled archer on the team were to be out of commission.”

“I’m the most skilled archer?” He asked with a smile, glancing at Byleth. She just shrugged.

“I give credit where credit’s due,” is all she replied. Claude faked hurt, putting his palm on his chest, taking care to not set it on his wound.

“Ah! And here I was thinking I was your favorite student. You wound me, Teach.”

Byleth didn’t say anything, just looked at Claude in the way she did when she first came to Garreg Mach while he heard Constance rolling her eyes. Jeralt just mumbled “Oy vey” under his breath and walked off.

“Come on, let’s get you to the infirmary,” Manuela said. “You look, quite frankly, terrible.”

Byleth nodded in agreement, and Manuela started off, humming. Claude followed, putting one hand on Byleth’s shoulder so he didn’t stumble or lose his balance or otherwise fall. Constance kept pace on his other side, letting out a sigh.

“Thank you for helping those kids out,” She muttered quietly, and Claude glanced at her, before swallowing.

“Yeah,” he replied, glancing down. “What the knights were saying and threatening to do… I couldn’t just stand by and let that happen to them.” _Especially after it happened to me so many times._

“You may very well have saved some of those kids’ lives,” Constance continued, making a humming noise as she looked up at the ceiling. “I owe you one.”

“You owe me, huh?” He mused under his breath, eyes flicking towards Manuela to make sure she couldn’t hear, before looking back at the former noble. “In that case, could you… could you not tell anyone about what you heard back there?”

Constance scrunched her nose up. “You mean the names?” She asked silently, and he gulped, nodded.

“Uh-huh. As you and the other Wolves have your reasons for living in Abyss, I have my reasons for… keeping that secret.”

“Of course. Not that it matters much to me where you’re from. Unlike most surface people, you and Byleth are decent people. Though you yourself are a bit of a scoundrel like Yuri, in some ways.”

Despite the pain in his chest, Claude let out a laugh, easily slipping back into that facade he always had around other people. “Then you don’t know me that well,” he replied, shooting a wink at her. Constance sighed.

“Forget I said anything,”

“And my headache is back,” Byleth mumbled under her breath, so quiet Claude almost missed it. But it was real, real as the hand on his shoulder, keeping him steady, the same hand that had saved his life countless times now.


End file.
